


A Mountain Crumbling, one stone at a time

by Bubbly88Tay



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, just Elenas thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 03:51:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16297616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubbly88Tay/pseuds/Bubbly88Tay
Summary: Bit by bit, a mountain can one day become nothing more than a mole hill.





	A Mountain Crumbling, one stone at a time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [damevinteren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/damevinteren/gifts).



> Written for my very good friend, Jo. Who is entirely and solely responsible for my love for Uncharted and Nathan Drake. Thanks for being my favorite whump mom, and for being a dear friend. 
> 
> As is normal with me, the most edited this is, is through Google Docs editing program. So not very much. 
> 
> Enjoy. (and remember if you like it, you should definitely let me know becuae I live for validation from my peers.)

“So what did you do to it?” Elena’s voice cut through the uncharacteristic silence of the island. All day long, their eas has been filled with the sounds of nature that flooded their ears. From the sounds of salted water lapping against rocky shores or the fresh water that thundered its way down the mountains. To the sounds of the wind rustling through the trees, birds chirping, and bushes rustling as animals became entrapped in their arms. 

 

No, the caves were nearly silent, (besides the occasional drops of water, or scuttles of a small animal. Or Nate blowing up a mummy bomb.) The silence was almost more deafening than Avery’s tricks and traps. So instead of focusing on the noise, (or lack thereof), Elena focused on Nate.  

 

Elena had traveled all around the world with Nate. She had discovered some of history's best secrets by his side, seen some of the greatest things that this world had to offer. She had seen the best (and worst,) of humanity. But somehow, her favorite part of it all would always be Nathan Drake. 

 

Nathan Drake with his overly confident smiles, his cocky grins, his sly smirks, and the shy beams that expressed so much more about him than the man in question ever had spoken. The way he rubs his neck and looks down when he runs out of words to say in a conversation, which people thought was impossible but no one knew Nate quite like she did. Nathan Drake and the way he glows when he’s excited, or the way he gets a faraway look and a glean in his eyes as he slips into the past. And Elena didn’t even want to get started on his shoulders. . . 

 

So she did the logical thing and put a ring on it. She hated how much shit he had gone through (and herself,) to get to this point, but it had all been worth it.  _ He  _ had been worth it. Sure she had been angry enough to strangle him days before, but then she’d remembered all the times that she’d thoughts that she’d lost him. ( _ Way too many times.)  _ Shortly thereafter, she had remembered all the times that she had saved him and how this time would probably be no different. 

 

Boy, had she been right. 

 

She had also known that this was a part of Nathan Drake that she couldn’t live without. Hell, Nathan Drake couldn’t live without this part of Nathan Drake. Elena had suspected it for a while. That was why she had been trying to push the Malaysia job as much as she had. She just couldn’t figure out why he had fought it so. Damn. Much. 

 

The best she could come up with was maybe he thought treasure hunting and going out and adventuring had been an addiction. Maybe he thought, that by taking the job, Nate thought that he would be relapsing. Her only other theory was that he was scared. He had been through  _ so  _ much, and while maybe nearly dying himself, (on multiple occasions,) hadn’t scared him too much, he had watched Sully die right in front of him. Maybe it had been fake but it had been real enough for him. Then before that, he had watched herself nearly get blown up and… he claims it was a four, maybe five, but she knew him well enough that it had been a twelve.

 

But then Sam had thrown a wrench into everything. 

 

Only after Nate had told her everything, (and she  _ had _ meant it, it had been a lot,) did Elena truly begin to understand why he left like he did. She had known deep down that there had to have been a damn good reason, at least that's what her rational brain had been screaming at her. Her… not as rational train of thought had been  _ pissed.  _

 

Maybe not  _ divorce pissed _ , but she’d be lying if she didn’t say she was close. 

 

Finding him lying in a river, unconscious, had scared all thoughts, both rational and irrational, away though. 

 

Sully had caught up to her shortly after she had left the room after her argument with her husband. She’d been livid. Almost inconsolable. Elena had yelled at Sully for a pretty minute before her senses finally caught up to her and she stopped seeing different shades of red. Then she proceeded to break down. It was then Sully who had taken her out for a drink and calmed her down with a story that could only be attributed to a Drake.  _ Her  _ Drake. It had hurt to realize that maybe she hadn’t known Nate as well as she thought she did. 

 

Sully had gently reminded her that Nate hid a lot whether it be because he was ashamed or just something he didn’t want to remember. Elena thought of how she would have reacted if a sister or brother that she had watched die in front of her years prior, had just shown up out of nowhere. She couldn’t imagine the guilt that Nate must have been carrying all those years, only for Sam to show up and Nate to wonder furiously why he hadn’t broken him out of the prison. She couldn’t figure out what made him feel worse, to be honest. 

 

That was when her anger had subsided and realization had dawned. Nate was, once again,  _ way _ over his head. 

 

That point had been driven in further as she had fallen to her knees beside him and dragged him with effort from the river bed. It had taken a while to rouse him, and she could only take a deep breath after he had begun to talk of old ladies, break-ins, and Nathan Morgan had become Nathan Drake.

 

The significance of Sir Francis Drake sat heavily in her mind for hours after. 

 

Now she was once again marveling about everything, about her husband as he reached up and did something she hadn’t seen him do before. He was walking idly, lost in thought (which wasn’t uncommon with him but she couldn’t count out the concussion at this point either,) when he reached up and began to massage his left shoulder. 

 

She watched the action with interest and was almost startled as he hissed, filling the silence. She cocked her head and thought of all the times he used his shoulders and arms. All the climbing and the jumping, all of the stuff that he pretty much spent years without doing. Maybe he pulled something?

 

“So what did you do to it?” Elena asked, curiosity and worry the better of her. Nates hand dropped and he turned back to face her, stopping for a moment and smirking at her. 

 

“What?” 

 

Elena couldn’t tell if he knew what she was talking about or not, so she straightened her shoulders, raised her eyebrow, and crossed her arms. Her hip cocked on its own accord. 

 

“Your shoulder, Nathan. What’s wrong with it?” Elena asked. They stood, facing each other for a few moments before Nate dropped his head and scratched the back of his neck with his right hand. Elena stepped forward and tipped his head back up, looking him in the eyes. “Come on Nate, what's wrong?”

 

Nate seemed to spend a moment debating his answer before he shrugged. “I took a tumble, landed wrong, and dislocated it.”

 

Disbelief was a good way to describe her thoughts. “You… dislocated… your shoulder? That simple?”

 

“Yea, well, I dislocated it a few times when I was younger and ever since it’ll kinda pop out every so often. It's just sore right now.” He talked about it like it was nothing, and while maybe it was nothing to the Great Nathan Drake, and maybe he  _ had _ suffered far more serious injuries and has had to accomplish much more while dealing with said heinous injuries, but Elena found it hard to believe that it was truly as nonchalant as Nate had made it out to be. 

 

“That's it, huh Cowboy?” She asked, the disbelief still weighing heavily in her tone before she shook it off. “Alright, show me.”

 

Nate’s eyebrows raised as his smirk returned. “The lighting in here is terrible, also, what do you plan on doing with it? The only thing that can really be done is to wrap it and in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have that luxury right now.” Nate’s smirk dropped, again. Instead, genuine questioning eyes bore into hers. He wasn’t being cynical, he was just stating the truth. 

 

Attempting to lighten the mood, Elena flashed a smile. “Maybe I just wanna see you shirtless.”

 

“That's bullshit,” he paused, “but if you insist.” He wiggled his eyebrows, halfheartedly she should note, a tired expression sweeping his face before he replaced it with a much more guided expression. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and began to lift it as far up as his mostly still, left arm allows him. Elena finishes guiding the shirt up and over his head, using deft fingers to pull his fingers away from the fabric. Her eyes glanced down at the scars of a man that doesn’t know when to stop. His entire torso was covered in bruises and scrapes. She winced as she carefully spun him around, and was unsurprisingly met with more bruises reaching and stretching across his back. “How are you still standing?”

 

By now, she had spun him back to face her and his eyes bore into hers. “I didn’t think I had a choice.”

 

The words were soft, but they bounced around the cavern and crashed into her over and over again. Nate was tired, and Elena couldn’t blame him. She still doesn’t have the whole story from him yet, but he’s been doing his thing for days now. Days of running, jumping, defending himself, defending his family. Doing whatever it takes to make it through to tomorrow with everyone he loves, all in one piece. Elena had only been doing this a couple of hours now and she was exhausted, and she hadn’t take any beatings yet opposed to his...numerous, as was made apparent by the canvas that was his body. 

 

Nathan had made a valid point though. He didn’t have a choice, and now, neither did she. 

 

Elena’s light smile dropped as she glanced up at him. His eyes were closed, and his mouth was clenched shut, “Nate, you ok?” A sardonic laugh escaped through his tight lips, echoing in the cavern. Elena felt a pang of sadness clutch at her heart. For the man before her that deserved everything good that the world had to offer but had only received the worst of the world. 

 

“No. I’m not. But we find Sam, we punch him, and then we all go home.” Nate offered. His eyes remained closed, so Elena snorted in response as she inspected his shoulder. It was swollen and red, bruised and overall painful looking. Realizing that there was nothing else that she could do, and grudgingly accepting the fact, she allowed his shirt to drop and settle back against his body. 

 

She yearned to wrap her arms around him and pull him close to her. She wanted to wake up in their bed, the light of the moon shining through the window, settling on Nate’s face as his dreams consumed him. She often wondered about his dreams. What does a man who has seemingly seen and experienced it all, dream about? She’s asked, but he claims to never remember them. She chooses to believe him. 

 

Elena reaffirms that a hug would be a painful experience, so she doesn’t allow herself to give in a indulge in the comfort. Instead she pulls his head down close to hers and gently rests their foreheads against each others. 

 

“You don’t have to shut me out, Nate. I’ll always be right here.” She allows herself the luxury of rest for a moment before Nate clears his throat before pulling away. He places a kiss against her head, light and lingering, before pulling away entirely. 

 

“I know.”

 

His smile is back after that. The smile that’s hiding so much pain and suffering. It’s not the genuine smile that’s captured in their wedding photos. Not the smile that she has loved as long as she’s known him. But the smile that suggests that he’s just trying to hold it all together. She was helpless, so she gripped his hand tightly and they continued to meander through the rest of the cave system. 

 

So maybe not meander. 

 

Every time a mummy exploded, her heart would jump into her throat. Everytime he went flying through the air, or sliding across the ground, she would feel crippling fear. As if every time he moved, it would be the last for the notorious Nathan Drake. But it never was. He’d get back up everytime, make some smart ass comment and then go and blow up another mummy. 

 

Just another day in the life, Elena supposed. 

 

Eventually they had made it to the room full of exploding mummies and hanging bodies and honestly, Elena wasn’t really surprised or even fazed by it anymore. They made it out. It was hairy. They had a rough landing, and if his ribs weren’t broken before, they certainly were now. She’d heard the cracks and the way that the breath was shoved from his body all at once. Elena had made light of it, and his concern for her was palpable. She almost felt bad for him for a moment, but the she remembered where they were. And why. 

 

But they made it, and they found Sam, (and then they lost him again.) Nate, ever the hero, went after him alone and then it was just her and Sully. She was sure that Sully could feel the tension in the air. Maybe not the hostile tension like before, rather a more concerned tension. Elena just wasn’t sure if she’d ever see Nate again, much less alive. 

 

She did though. She helped pull him from the water as he padded to shore, Sam a few yards behind him. She helped Sam out of the water while she became hyper vigilant of Nate’s movements. He didn’t move much, but he was talking. That was a good sign. As soon as Sam was out of the water, and a flare shot into the air, she fell beside Nate. 

 

She was not surprised to see that he was bloodier than when she’d last seen him. He had blood soaking through his shirt in a couple of different places. His arm and his stomach mainly. The wounds were still sluggishly bleeding, so she lifted his shirt to see them better. She couldn’t get a better look at his arm, but she was able to peel his shirt further away from his abdomen. Sticky with blood and water. It was a deep slice that stretched five or six inches. “What caused these? She asked, hoping that her silent husband would respond. 

 

“A sword. An old ass sword.” Elena’s eyes widened as she turned to Sam, the man now sitting at her side. “Saved my ass though.”

 

The words did not bring her comfort. 

 

Elena dropped the shirt and looked to Nate's face and wasn’t surprised to see his eyes were now closed. His chest was rising and falling evenly but he was pale. Too pale for her liking. 

 

And still quiet. 

 

“Nate, how’s your head feeling?” Elena knew that he was exhausted. She also knew that he was concussed, and even though his adrenaline was crashing, she didn’t want him sleeping. Not until he was well off the island of death and destruction and possibly even in a hospital bed. 

 

“It hurts. Hey, what do you think the chances are of me getting tetanus from the swords?” The words reassured her. Sam was now silent beside her, and she turned to glance at him again, making sure that he was ok. (She wasn’t mad that Nate appeared to be in way more pain than Sam. No way. Not mad  _ at all. _ )

 

He was fine, so she laughed as she turned back to help Nate sit up. “If tetanus is the only thing we’re worried about from here on out, I think we’ll be fine.”

 

Sully was close, she could hear the small plane above them. “Says a lot about the life we live.”

 

Nate was sitting up against her now, leaning heavily on her side. Elena remained silent at the words. 

 

Twenty-four hours later, and she sat next to him in a cab on the way to a hotel so they coud get a full night of sleep before the long flight home. 

 

Nate was quiet beside her. He had his wounds stitched up, an MRI scan of his head, a round of tetanus shots, and a plethora of X-rays before he’d been released from the hospital. A concussion, multiple broken ribs, a reset shoulder, and multiple stitches later. She’s almost certain that he’s asleep against her, his head resting on her shoulder. He was a silent sleeper, and sometimes she just couldn’t tell when he was or wasn’t sleeping. A sling was wrapped around his neck and holding his arm close to his body. His hand clutching hers. 

 

She ran her fingers over his hand over and over again, admiring the scars, old and new, that gave them texture. She got lost in the calouses, the lines of his palms and the the story they told. She got lost in the story of Nathan Drake. 

 

She didn’t realize that she’d said the words out loud. The words that bounced around in her head. The words that expressed everything she knew about herself, and about NAthan Drake, and them. The words that describe the story of them. Their past, present, and future.

 

Them. 

 

“I love you too, ‘Lena.”

 

Just like that, Nates hand in hers, everything was right in the world, and she was at peace. 

 

_ fin _

 


End file.
